


Configuration Complete

by embittered_ambition



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Gen, Isolation, ahhh sad bb tony :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23961070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embittered_ambition/pseuds/embittered_ambition
Summary: Instead of five dying on Titan as a product of the snap... six had.Tony was alone on the Milano.
Kudos: 4





	Configuration Complete

The stars got old after a while. And perhaps, that was a good thing. After all, it meant that he could stare off into space without his chest tightening, breath hitching, adrenaline surging through his veins. He was honestly glad for that. At least he was now desensitized, despite the circumstances

It didn’t make the view any less sad though. Or intimidating. It meant that he was still as far away from Earth as the day previous.

Tony knew for a fact he was moving at 84% the speed of light. The stars didn’t seem to visually move in respect to that though. It was as if they were in the same exact position as when he started this wretched journey home, a journey he knew he wouldn’t be able to complete. 

Actually, that's a lie. The ship was programmed to maintain the course even without further input into the control panel. At least Pepper will have a body to bury. 

(Assuming she’s alive.)

He’s accepted it by now. Or he’s convinced himself that he has. He was going to be stuck in this god-awful spaceship that smelt faintly of cheetos, for the rest of his life.

That was truly a hellish existence.

But there was still this spark, a spark that no one, not even Tony himself, had managed to quell. The spark screamed at him to survive, the very same spark that pushed him into creating the Iron Man suit and surviving that impromptu kidnapping.

He was grateful for that little spark. He would've rolled over by now and accepted the inevitable but no. Tony physically couldn't.

Tony winced, joints protesting against the jarring movements. He knew he had to continue, he knew he had to, but he just couldn’t. Every ounce of strength had been sapped from him, escaping with every puff of stale air that wasn’t enough, that wasn’t quite enough. His lungs were on fire but there was a chance that this final adjustment would fix the warp drive.

  
And then he could return home. To Earth. He needed to get back to Pepper, and the bots, Rhodey. Hell, even Steve. He’s always missed the guy, even despite everything that has happened.

If only he could escape this glorified metal coffin. He’s had enough of drinking water that tastes like it came from LA. And trust him, that stuff is disgusting.

Tony grunted as he gripped the wrench-looking thingy with pallid fingers, pulling it forward— forcing the precious oxygen to stop it's continuous leak from the chokehold. His throat bobbed, and he managed to give one final burst of effort and it finally closed. The clock was ticking.

He managed to unclench his cramping fingers from the metal, letting out a soft, pained breath as he sagged against the cold walls. Tony closed his eyes. They felt unbelievably dry.

Water will run out in a week.

Thankfully, the whistling of the oxygen didn't return. Now he could move on to the second phase of the plan, assuming the cap held.

"Yay," he murmured, a careful note of hope in his voice.

He knew that soon the oxygen would run out, within an hour… and it would degrade rapidly once he began the open flame, but he had no choice. He has to conserve the oxygen that remains.

He shuffled a couple feet to the high-tech blow torch he configured in the corner. "Okay, you got this. Just gotta engage…" his voice trailed off, and he turned the knob. A bright blue flame began to flicker. Perfect.

He grabbed the warp drive off the metal table. He tilted it in his hand a little, dry, cracked lips parted. It looked otherworldly. That was unsurprising, since it is actually otherworldly.

But still. It looked so… unreal. Like it was straight out of a fantasy novel. It was pitch black, colored like the void, covered in little specks of a bright blue that shifted into a purple in the faint emergency lighting. It was shaped like one of those USBs, but a little thicker and wider.

It looked like a portion of his palm was missing when he held it in his hand. It looked like a black hole, almost. 

Fascinating. What he wouldn't do for his lab.

The main problem was the crack through the insertion part. And the manual, from what he can translate, said he had to weld it together with this… blowtorch. He wasn't entirely sure it was a fire, actually. It didn't feel warm at all.

He'd explore it more if he had the mental capacity at the time. Already, it was getting fuzzy. His brain felt like it was stuffed in cotton, slowing down his thought processes until they were intermittent, less fluid.

_ Tilt the warp drive. _

_ Wait until the crack fills. _

_ Pepper. _

_ Steve. _

His chest was on fire. He felt light headed. Tony had to lean against the table, a cold sweat beading on his pale forehead. His vision was oddly… muted. Pale.

It was serene, almost.

Tony blinked through the sudden wave of exhaustion, before he tilted the warp drive one more time. The final crack began to melt down, melding into a seamless finish.

He exhaled shakily, stumbling forward as he turned off the flame. He felt faint, white spots exploding in his periphery like mini super novas; his legs felt numb, the sudden threat of passing out roaring in his ears until he couldn't, he couldn't.

Tony let out a scared noise, one that he would never admit making, and he stumbled into the metal wrench.

_ He couldn't do this. He can't. _

He pushed his entire weight into the thing, weak limbs pressing and pressing, but it just wouldn't work, it wouldn't, and the world was swirling around him, each breath burning through his throat like whisky, but it was practically lava—

There was a squeaking noise. He could feel a rush of cool air brushing against his cheeks, and the tell-tale woosh.

Oxygen.

He gulped it down greedily, his surely blue lips practically wrapped around the tubing, because he could finally breathe. It was the elixir of life.

And finally, finally, he could get home. After months of being alone, after dreaming of the blue lady, those Guardians, and oh god, the kid, dying, turning into dust, with only the stars for company… he could finally get back to Earth. He had the means to do it now.

Somehow, while it did fill him with an unending amount of hope, it filled him with dread also.

What if everyone he cared about was dead, too?

He couldn't bear to think about it.

Once Tony regained his bearings, he straightened his back, the world feeling somewhat manageable once more. At least it wasn't swirling like water through a drain anymore.

He went to the control panel. There would have been a skip to his step if he had the energy to do so, but no matter. The elated expression on his face, the tentative smile, spoke volumes despite it.

He doesn't remember the last time he smiled.

Tony pressed a button, his usually deft fingers shaking, and then the insertion port opened, the metallic covering for it sliding away back into the control panel.

His heart was pounding. Hard. Pepper.

Strawberry blonde hair and her laugh and her smile sent a new-found resolve through him, and the next few moments were almost in slow motion.

He pressed it in. It clicked, accepting the new insertion. He waited. Waited some more.

A pop up appeared. Tony glanced up at the holograms, fearing for the worse but hoping for the best.

His stomach dropped.

_ Drive unreadable. _

"No," he breathed, "No no no no," he muttered, fingers fumbling for the ejection button. He pressed it, and then reinserted it.

Still, unreadable.

He wasn't going home. He was going to die here. Light years away from his family, from his home, utterly alone and isolated.

Lost forever, stuck in this ship with horrible eighties music and set to die within the week. Nobody was going to save him and nobody probably cared. After all, he did fail everyone. He let presumably half of all life die, assuming that the purple grape did what he said he would do.

He was numb. He couldn't breathe; he didn't want to, this time.

Tony sagged, sliding to the floor. He stared at his hands.

Tears would've been pouring if he wasn't so dehydrated, but all he could do was stare.

He stared some more.

And more.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHH NOO :( Why do I love torturing my favorite characters heh.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy :D


End file.
